


Steve

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has a Bad Day, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is in love with a man he knows he doesn't deserve. Why does this important corporate lawyer bother spending his love on someone no one else has ever noticed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Not_Misha_Collins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Misha_Collins/gifts).



> Tumblr prompt fill

Castiel ran his dexterous fingers along Sam's sides, relishing the tremble of want that greeted him. His lover sighed with pleasure as he lowered himself to his knees to let Sam fall thick and heavy onto his tongue. Sam immediately threw one hand out to brace himself on the door frame of the closet, and the other gripped gently in Castiel's dark hair. Castiel's mouth worked hot and wet and hungry.

Sam muttered the soft lyrics to Castiel's favorite melody, moans of praise and whispers of guidance, and rapturous pleas melting into whimpers. Just as it always did, at last, Sam’s voice went husky, and before long, it was crying out a warning. Castiel looked up at him with utter devotion in his eyes, and Sam was staring down at him with wonder, as his body shuddered in waves.

He licked his lips contentedly. Sam was the best thing he had ever had in his life. Taking care of him was the highest of Castiel's priorities.

***

Sam was watching him when Castiel opened his eyes. He smiled at him. “Hello, Sam.”

“Hey, Castiel.”

“You're watching me sleep.”

“You're cute. It makes me happy.”

Castiel sighed and wriggled further under the comforter. “Well, now I'm torn because I want you to be happy, and I'd also like to not be creeped out.”

Sam’s laugh was a lovely thing. He wished he could open his eyes to see it. “You've taught me to appreciate great art,” he teased. “You can't blame me for wanting to stare at it when it's right there.”

He snorted grouchily.

“Cas, it's time to get up.”

“But I'm still sleeping.”

It was worth opening his eyes to watch the laugh this time. “Cas, that's a fallacious argument.”

“It wasn't an argument.” Castiel flipped onto his stomach and burrowed into the pillow with a growl. “It was a whine.”

But then Sam was kissing his neck, and his traitorous heart and body abandoned his brain. His skin tingled happily, and his heart whispered reminders he didn't want, about times before Sam, times when he had been lonely, and times when he had thought he would always be alone. It nudged him, scolding him for taking this man for granted even for an instant. His brain was always left out in the cold when it came to Sam.

He found himself shifting and staring up at his lover now. “Sam? I'm so grateful that you're good to me.”

This laugh was surprised. “Why do you say it like that?”

But Castiel didn't laugh. “I know I would adore you anyway. So I'm lucky that you're good to me. You know you could walk on me, and I'd still be yours. The fact that you're so wonderful is just another level.”

Sam had been trying to get them up, but now he settled onto the bed beside him. “Cas? I don't understand.”

Blue eyes blinked slowly at the handsome face. “I don't know how else to say it. You could treat me like trash, and I would still adore you. I'd rather let you walk on me than be without you.”

His lover frowned. “Cas, that's not healthy at all.”

“I know. So I'm grateful that you never take advantage of how obsessed with you I am.”

Sam took a deep breath. “Then I guess I better keep trying to be good to you. Because one of us should be.” He kissed Castiel's lips softly. “I love you, Cas. Please never let anyone walk on you, especially me.”

“No one else,” Castiel confirmed. “I wouldn't tolerate it from anyone else. But you, Sam. I'm so addicted to you. Good for me or not, I can't stop needing you. So thank you for being good for me.”

“I hope I am.”

“You are everything good in my life.”

Sam was still frowning a little. “Cas, are you all right? I don't want you to...I want you to have…”

Castiel smiled and wrapped his arms around his lover. “I know you do. And that's part of what is so different about you. You want me to have more than you. But you're everything, and I can't help that. All I can do is be grateful.”

Sam sighed. “I love you, angel. I wish I could say it better than that.”

***

It had been a long day at work. A very long day. The first minute he had been there, the slushie machine had exploded on him, like it had been lying in wait for its favorite victim. The attempts at socializing with his customers and coworkers were disastrous as always, and his only consolation was that no matter what he did, no one even noticed him, so it wasn't as though anyone had been bothered by it. The second explosion had taken place in the men's bathroom, and he had dutifully cleaned everything until it shined. The manager had asked him to babysit again next week, and he had been utterly unable to say no. The guy who delivered the colas still called him Steve, even though his misspelled name tag clearly said Cass.

When he pulled off his blue vest at last, it was covered in sticky, germy reminders of how terrible the day had been. He hated wearing it into the house, to remind Sam that he was a successful corporate lawyer dating a guy who worked at a Gas and Sip. He was fumbling his key with one hand, and his top buttons on his white shirt with the other, when both his house key and his top button dropped to the ground in the dark.

Tears filled his eyes, and he closed them briefly until he could get hold of himself.

It startled him when the door opened. “Hey. Something wrong with your key? I heard you trying to unlock the door, but you didn't…”

Castiel swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Hello, Sam.”

Sam looked at him inquisitively. “Hey, Castiel. Are you okay?”

He sat on his heels to recover his keys and the wayward button. When he stood again, he wavered slightly.

Sam reached out to steady him. “Whoa, whoa. You all right?”

Castiel frowned and shoved past him into the house. He deposited his key and empty wallet on the kitchen counter on his way by. “I'm fine!” he snapped. Humiliation was welling up inside him, burning him.

“You're clearly upset about something-”

“It's nothing,” and this time, he made himself say it softer. None of this was Sam's fault. Sam didn't deserve to be treated this way. Sam deserved better. Sam deserved someone so high above Steve-Cass-Castiel that whoever that person was would need to have wings.

But without warning, Sam’s strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and twisted them with admirable grace and familiarity, so that Castiel found his head resting against Sam’s powerful chest.

The sigh that emitted from him was a sob.

“Shh. It's all right, my love. It's okay. Come sit with me.”

He was being led to the couch, and he tried to murmur about being fine, about not bothering Sam with something silly. But he couldn't help going where Sam took him.

Sam held him in silence for a time, suffering Castiel's ridiculous sobs and worthless apologies. Then he pulled back just enough to cup Castiel's face. “Angel, please talk to me. You're unhappy. I want to know why.”

Panic filled his chest, and he shook his head in Sam's hands. “No! I'm not unhappy! I'm not. Please, Sam. You're perfect.”

“Shh,” he soothed again. “We aren't talking about me. We're talking about why my angel won't meet my eyes, about why he sighs at night, why he doesn't want me looking at him in the morning, and about why he keeps saying he's sorry when I ask what's wrong.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks without mercy. “Sam, don't. I'm sorry. I'm just tired.”

Sam's lips were on his forehead, breathing out kisses as well as words. “Nothing else matters right now, Cas. You always act like I'm too busy to listen. But I'm listening.”

Humiliation burned through his skin like a fever. “You shouldn't. I'm just being stupid. I just had a long day at work.”

“You've had a long day at work for weeks now, Cas. I'd like to talk about it.”

“What does it matter? Whining doesn't make anything better! You hearing me whine is embarrassing. So there's no point!”

Sam sat back, and his face hardened slightly. “Cas, there is no embarrassment between us. There can't be.”

This made Castiel bark out a bitter laugh. “You're kidding, right? I'm one big embarrassment! I'm the albatross weighing you down! You don't think it's mortifying to be me when you're...you?!”

The man was stunned. He stared at him, his mouth opening in silence.

Castiel swallowed again. “I'm sorry. I'm-I told you I was tired. Please just forget everything.”

But Sam was not one to let anything go. “Cas,” he said quietly, “I deserve to know what's going on.”

It was probably the only thing his lover could have said to make him talk. He closed his eyes. “You deserve everything,” he sighed miserably. “Fine. Sam, do you remember I told you I would never tolerate being walked on by anyone less than Sam Winchester? That's bullshit. Because everyone walks on me. Everyone. And there's nothing I can do about it. All day long, every day. I was a soldier, Sam. I was an-an artist. But now...now I'm nothing. Now I'm...Steve!”

Sam was frowning in confusion when he opened his eyes to peer out. “Steve?”

Castiel sighed in frustration. “The same guy has been coming to the store every week for the past two years to inventory colas, and he calls me Steve. I stopped correcting him after the first few months. What does it matter? I've also been asking for a replacement name tag, one that spells my name correctly, for just as long. And it doesn't matter, because I don't matter. I'm nothing. Not there, not anywhere, except in your arms.” He stared down at his own trembling hands. “I'm entirely anonymous outside of your reach. You're the only one who cares that I have anything at all to say, and so you're the one who has to put up with my stupid whining.”

“Oh, Cas.”

“Stop. Don't do that. Don't. I'm exactly what I made myself. In the army, I didn't make friends. After the military, I didn't go to school. I didn't even try to take care of myself. I ended up at this job because I ran out of money, and I was on the street. The only reason I didn't just curl up and die was because this beautiful corporate lawyer came to get his coffee every morning. And I knew he would never notice me, but I had to be there, had to make sure the coffee was just right so he could start his important day. And all day long, I would think about how he had smiled at me and thanked me, and called me by the right name, and treated me like I was a person. And I would think of all the important things this beautiful man had to do in his day, and I would be so happy that I was the one who had made his coffee, because some of the others don't put enough care into it, and I knew how important it was, how important you were, and it had to be done right for you. I wanted to be the one to start your day every day, because even if you never noticed me, I wasn't going to let you start your day without your coffee done right.”

Sam was smiling down at him, shaking his head. “Cas, I've told you. I only even went into that place after that first day because I thought I might see you again. It was your smile that started my day right every morning. I could have gotten my coffee anywhere. That smile was only at one place.”

“You've said that, and I believe you, but I don't understand it. No one else has ever noticed me, Sam. No one. I don't have friends. Your brother puts up with me for your sake, and I think because I make him laugh, and he likes to play Jarheads versus Grunts when we get together,” he said, with a strangely fond exasperation. “But other than that, I've got no one and nothing outside of you. You tell me that's not healthy, but it isn't really a choice. I try to make friends. I try all day long to connect to people, every day. And I just can't. So healthy or not, it's just true. You're everything to me.”

Sam was sighing. “I know, angel. I'm sorry. I just worry about you. And Dean likes you. Half the time he visits, he's just coming to see you. He calls you a grunt out of affection.”

“And jarhead is meant the same way, to a Marine. Your brother is a Marine from a family of Marines. I'm a grunt from a family of grunts. It was inevitable that we would snipe at one another, but it's all meant affectionately.”

His lover nodded. “Then you gotta know he isn't just putting up with you for my sake. He likes you, Cas. You're family. And I love you.” He stood then, and began to pace their living room, deep in thought.

Castiel let him. It was a lovely thing to watch, Sam Winchester taking long, careful strides while contemplating a problem.

At last, he took a breath. “Cas? I'd like you to put in your notice at the store. Wait-hear me out. If you aren't miserable there, fine. But you are. And you're not on the street anymore, Cas. You're here, with me.”

“For how long?” he blurted out. “What do I do when that's over?”

All of the sudden, Sam’s face went gray, and he turned to stare at Castiel. He lowered himself to his knees and looked directly into Castiel's eyes. “Do you want it to be over?”

His stomach threatened to send his meager, half-hearted dinner back up. “No,” he croaked. “No, never. But one day you will.”

Sam’s eyes blinked rapidly, and he took a few deep breaths before he could speak again. “Cas, I'm not leaving you. Not ever. So if you think...Cas, is that why you never quit at the store? Because you thought you needed a plan B?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Sam, when I left the military, I had nothing. I was nothing. And that hasn't changed. I was lucky to get this job. What if I couldn't get something else? If you left me, I'd be back on the street again without this job. I just don't ever want to be hungry and dirty again. I can't leave this job. It's all I know how to do.”

Sam licked his lips, and stood to pace again. He was still shaking his head. “Cas, I want you to give them notice. My income is good enough for you to take a risk. We will be fine. And I need you to be happy. You said this morning that you're glad I don't take advantage of you. I want you to take advantage of me for a while.”

Horror and fear filled his throat. “What-How?”

“Let me take care of you, Cas. Take some time to do what you want, to figure out what you want. Take some classes. Read some books. And go back to drawing. You haven't sketched on anything other than the back of junk mail in months. Let's get you some supplies. And in a few weeks, a few months even, when you're ready, we can look for a job together that will make you happier. One that is a better fit for you.”

Castiel was stunned into silence.

“Cas, you've never even asked for a day off.”

“I don't like to be annoying,” he whispered.

“Cas! Please! You have to ask for the things you need. You have to look out for yourself. Well, until you figure that out, I'm going to do it for you. If you had all the money you needed, what would you do?”

Castiel shook his head. “I don't…” But he did. He dreamed about it every day at work. He sketched it onto abandoned receipts. He planned it out while listening to Sam fall asleep each night.

Sam's eyes narrowed. “You do know. Tell me. Please, Cas.”

He lowered his gaze again. “I'm not educated for it. Not qualified.”

“Then we'll get you there, whatever it takes. Talk to me, angel. What do you want?”

It was the only thing in his heart other than Sam. If Sam laughed at it..his heart would shatter.

“Cas, please.”

He sighed. There was nothing he would ever deny this man. “I-I sketch and draw, but-but that's because it's less expensive and less of a commitment than...I want to build things. Not anything. Specifically, I want to design and build…”

Sam was waiting.

“Sometimes city councils will bring in an artist, someone to design parks and playgrounds or physical art for schools and other areas. Things kids can play with and learn from, and things that keep them happy and safe. Especially for kids that are very low income, or who have special needs, it's important to have stuff that's accessible and safe, and...And sometimes you'll see things at universities or hospitals, things that are just there to make people happy, to make them stop to think. Open-air art, they call it. Functional art. The kind of thing kids will climb on. The kind of thing that makes everyone happy because kids are laughing. The kind of thing that makes you think this city cares about its kids, all of its kids.”

Sam was still listening. And he was smiling, but he wasn't laughing.

Castiel plunged on. “There's this place, in Japan, called The Hakone Open-Air Museum. I've always wanted to see it. And ever since I saw photos of it, I've wanted to build a space like it. Or-or at least contribute to building open-air pieces. I don't know why.”

A hand was taking his, and Sam was staring at him with that same strange look of awe that he had after Castiel had taken care of him last night.

“What is that?” he breathed. “When you look at me that way?”

Sam sighed happily. “It's me falling in love with you all over again. You manage to make me fall in love with you again every day. I can't help it. I want to take you to Hakone, and every place like it, and when you're full of inspiration, I want to have the firm commission a piece to be placed at that women and children's shelter for those kids, and I want you to design it. And then I'll help you build a portfolio, and get you other commissioned work, till you're too busy to remember you didn't think you could do this.”

Tears splashed down his cheeks when he laughed. “Sam, I could never make a living on that!”

But Sam was shaking his head. “Then do it because you love it, and we will figure out the rest. And I can't have you worrying about a plan B. So will you marry me? Forever? I promise you Hakone for your honeymoon.”

The world was spinning, and Castiel was falling, but Sam's arms were around him, and it was all okay. It was all going to be okay.

“Cas? Marry me,” he repeated. “Please. I can't stand thinking that you're afraid this is going to end. That you think you can't take a risk. Please, Cas. You love me. I love you. And we take good care of one another. So long as you always smile at me, I'll want to start every day with you.”

For the first time in his life, Castiel found that he didn't have to be afraid of falling. “I want that too,” he whispered. “Yes, Sam, please. I want that too.”

Sam was still talking, about how they were going to get him out of this uniform and dressed, about going out to a late dinner to celebrate, about calling Dean and telling him the news, then sitting in a restaurant talking about honeymoon plans and all the things they wanted for themselves and each other.

And all Castiel could think was that he was so grateful that Sam had noticed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for noticing my little stories. 
> 
> ~Posing


End file.
